The Werewolf Returns and causes havoc
by Daughter of the Flame
Summary: Any ideas? Have worked self into hole of pointlessness. Help required. (Rating random, nevertheless not incorrect)
1. Chapter One

Chapter One: Introducing the suffering academic, esteemed Professor Lupin, and one Professor Snape  
  
  
The almost-full moon shone through the window of the Gryffindor girls' dormitories on the third night of term, and already Hermione Granger was in the middle of a tricky essay of utmost importance on "Dark magic and its appeal to wizards - discuss why wizards are drawn to the 'dark side.'" for the recently re-employed Remus Lupin1, her tutor in Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts. Hermione sat on her bed, surrounded by textbooks, parchment, and quills. She just wanted to be alone, so she had pulled the curtains around her bed, muttered a quick but powerful silencing charm and a charm to keep the curtains where they were, and then performed a very tricky semi-transfiguration she had thought up once in fourth year, probably while she and Ron were in the midst of a fight, which almost combined the curtains with a one-way mirror, making the curtains see-through on her side, but perfectly normal on the other. She was currently skimming through numerous texts for anything that might help with her essay, bored out of her mind and unwilling to search the restricted section. She stopped when she heard Pavarti Patil talking in her sleep about some boy (whose name sounded somewhat like Neville's, but, Hermione surmised, that wasn't likely). Hermione put the book down in resignation, then sighed and stretched. Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere, and she was in a mood to write them down.   
  
Grabbing a special scrap of parchment from a concealed hole in the wall behind her bed (which she had found on her first night in first year, just 5 hours faster than Fred and George Weasley had found their first passage), she transfigured the strange, wood-like parchment back into her journal, and retrieved a pen she had modified for such a purpose, finding quills too trivial for journal writing. She began to write, reading softly aloud as she did, and pausing now and then to think: "Nothing's really ever happened to me, in the way of love... There was a boy, once, who I think I liked when I was 10. But he's barely even a hazy memory now. Of course, there was Gilderoy Lockhart in second year." She paused, furrowing her brow, thinking carefully, before continuing, "But even though he seemed like my whole world at the time, I know that this is different. And if you're thinking of a certain Bulgarian quidditch player, you are sorely wrong, because I shall maintain until, through and after my death that we really were just friends.  
  
"In the past 16 years that I've been around, my studies have never been so obviously affected by anything, let alone a man, and a man that until recently I never thought I could be in the same room with, without wanting to hex him into next week, at that. It's so annoying, this love. And I'm determined to keep it a secret. Hell, if Harry or Ron, or anyone, found out, they'd take me down to Pomfrey and demand I be taken to St. Mungo's. Permanently." She smiled a bit at that, but secretly she knew that her two best friends' hate for the man, coupled with Ron's affection for her, would probably end up in broken friendships all over the place.  
  
"Besides," she continued, doggedly making excuses, "it's against the rules, and for good reason. He can't possibly even like me, anyways. And the age difference is just too big for me, him, or in fact anyone, to ignore. And it's not as though my parents would welcome it. Nor would Dumbledore...oh god, I'm talking like it's a possibility - and damn, I've admitted that I do like him. I can't let him find out then, I can't let anyone find out. It certainly can't happen at all. I won't let myself fall in love with him. It is not a possibility." Although she wanted most desperately, most secretly, at the core of her heart, for it to be possible, she slammed the book shut and waved her wand, and in a moment's concentration her bed was cleared of its avalanche of books and parchment, and her journal was re-transfigured and replaced. She got under the covers and closed her eyes, willing for sleep, unable to keep his face from her eyelids, nor shake him from her thoughts.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Meanwhile, back at the ranch...  
  
"Severus, it's only four students. How much damage can they possibly do?" Severus snorted. Clearly, the Headmaster had no idea what those idiots were capable of, or he was blissfully ignoring cold hard fact to try and coax Severus into co-operating. "They're obviously well acquainted with the curriculum. It could be good for you, and now that your other job's finished, you've got lots of spare time to kill." Yes. Between teaching and making more potions to supply Madam Pomphrey, he had so much time on his hands he simply did not know what to do. Now that prices of the pre-made potions Pomphrey normally would use had risen outrageously due to high demand and lack of skill and, they had figured, Severus was the best in the country, he was now slaving over the cauldron, or rather, several at a time (often right through his classes or right through the night as well), making Wolfsbane and supplying the hospital wing. 

"Not to mention the added benefits to the students, and the wizarding community, need I even mention the excellent effects it would have on Potions?" He cared. He really did. Deep, very, very, very, deep down inside, he almost did care about the 'community'. That's why he was trying to prevent this idea. Those four nutcases could blow up Hogwarts without trying, and with a bit of luck they'd blow up Hogsmeade and the Shrieking Shack too: Whomping Willow, Hogshead and all. "I know you don't like teaching." Understatement of The Millenium. "And they're capable. They're all prefects, in fact they're really quite responsible-" Dumbledore was, yet again, trying to talk Professor Severus Snape into participating in another of his harebrained plans to breathe life into the gloomy lessons of potions, held in the even gloomier (if at all possible) dungeons. It was, yet again, not working out nicely.  
  
"Albus, you know as well as I do that Potions is a dangerous subject which can instantaneously go wrong and I don't want them," Or worse, he thought, me, "being responsible for an accident which could very likely be life threatening or even-" Snape, the slime ball, was again trying to worm his way out of Albus' latest plans to entertain the reader and terrorise both teachers, parents, and even some students alike, and Snape, naturally, was successfully failing. Again. You'd think he did it on purpose.  
  
"Now, now, Severus. They'll only be teaching first years. I'd hate to think you taught dangerous potions to our youngest pupils..." Dumbledore was hardly trying. He knew Severus would just blow his chances and Dumbledore'd be forced to pull rank again anyway.  
  
"Of course I don't, but there's Gryffindors involved! They'll find a way to make it dangerous! The older pupils would benefit more by studying individually, not by actually teaching!" Wow, how original. That Gryffindor reference always gets to Dumbledore, and provides the incentive to...   
  
"Severus, I want you to do this." Ah, yes. Typical. Most typical. The satisfaction of always being right. Not that I like to boast or anything... just always, always be correct.  
  
"Fine," he growled angrily and, as his teeth were ground finer than the finest grit a bird-owner could buy, he stalked out of the office. Snape's greasy face had a pink tinge to it, in all its sallowness. He was incredibly annoyed. He had to let sixth years teach first years, of all the joys, and that know-it-all Granger, at that! Not to mention Malfoy, who'd probably sit back and let her do all the work at any rate. He didn't know about those two Ravenclaws, he thought maybe they and their class could survive, if not him. But the whole concept! To be frank, he really couldn't be bothered to organise and supervise this little idea of Dumbledore's. It was a waste of time and a gigantic excuse to annoy him, right at a time where he was ready to apply for a time-turner just to complete his potion brewing. Damn Dumbledore!  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Hermione Granger, sixth year, receiver of top-grade OWLs for every subject (except Divination and Muggle Studies), and prefect, was currently "walking" down the hallway on the fifth floor in a very lady-like fashion, towards the office of one Professor R. J. Lupin, at about 20 miles an hour (it would have been a world record had she not been at Hogwarts and was, most likely, implementing some form of charm or another). The aforementioned Professor Lupin was patiently awaiting his Wolfsbane Potion from The Potions Master, and was busy looking out the window. He heard a knock on the door, and told them to come in. He turned around, and was pleasantly surprised to find Hermione there instead of Snape.   
  
"Miss Granger, how good to see you! I was expecting Severus with my Wolfsbane Potion," he saw her slightly distressed look and drifted off a little sadly before finishing, "but what is it I can help you with?"   
  
"It's about that essay, Professor Lupin," Hermione began, taking a relieving breath and contemplating her choice of words before continuing, "I can't seem to find much information thus far, is it possible for me to look in the restricted section?" Lupin nodded understandingly, before transfiguring a scrap of parchment into a note that already had his signature, telling her that it would satisfy Madam Pince. She admired his skill in transfiguration, before thanking him and turning quickly to leave.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Professor Severus Snape swore mildly under his hot breath as his Wolfsbane Potion messed up once more, too exhausted to put more effort into letting fly some of the harsher words he had come across in Hogwart's halls as both student and professor, or in his Death Eater days. This was considered a difficult potion, but Snape was so good at his craft that he had only began to make mistakes recently, with the inhuman amounts of potions he was making around the clock. They occured even with the most simple potions learnt in first year, and served only to annoy and put more pressure on him to perform. He could only be glad that he had not made a mistake in class which could not be remedied, nor one in front of the Granger Know-it-all, or that a fatal explosion hadn't occured, as it was likely to, he thought, tipping his ruined Wolfsbane Potion down the drain for only the second time in his life. A Wolfsbane Potion took around a month to make, relying on the lunar phases to weave its magic, and unfortunately Severus had to dig into his private stock to take a second-last bottle to Lupin, saved from embarassment only by his Slytherin and somewhat pessimistic instincts.

Carrying the potion in front of him like a battering ram, Severus hurried down the hall, hoping Lupin wouldn't notice that he was late and thus suspect he had made a mistake. He sincerely wished he could put some sort of charm on the bottle to make it unbreakable, but this potion was delicate and he was none to good with a wand, finding such waving about foolish and, of all things, loud, from an early age. The door was ajar slightly, and Snape stopped just next to the wall to catch his breath, to make it look like he had not been hurrying, but had taken his own sweet time and that was why he was late. Then he swept into the room with utmost grace and swiftness, or so he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I commend your excellent timing, Miss Granger," Hermione looked over to find Professor Dumbledore had arrived just as she had woken up in the hospital wing.  
  
"Sir...I...can't seem to remember...what happened..." Hermione's forehead was a street map of lines, her thought bent on what had last happened.  
  
"Ah," the professor began, with a bemused look which annoyed but mostly agitated Hermione, "I do believe you were visiting our esteemed Professor Lupin for a note, when Severus, here," he continued, gesturing to the professor who had just come into view, "was coming to give Professor Lupin his Wolfsbane Potion. It is my understanding that the two of you collided in the hallway, and the potion was tipped from its flask." He paused a little, almost expectantly. Sighing inwardly, Snape realised his cue when he saw it.  
  
"The potion was tipped mostly onto you, Miss Granger, and we are not yet sure of the effect it has had, although you have been here in a comatose for two days." Professor Snape grunted in a somewhat superior monotone, complete with his usual glare. Hermione went bright red and looked away from her potions professor.  
  
"What happened to Professor Lupin?" she asked, finally realising that if there was no potion for him to take he would not have been harmless that night.  
  
"Ah, yes," Dumbledore nodded approvingly, "I'm glad you thought of that. Well, we were going to send him out to the Shrieking Shack, when Mr Potter found a spare dose in Severus' private rooms. I think he mentioned something about someone going into his private stock for Boomslang skin, but he stopped before he mentioned their name." Dumbledore appeared at an innocent loss as to who this might be. Snape looked murderous. Hermione refused to look at him, the bile rose slightly in her throat, and she gulped quite noticeably. Dumbledore, who was in his element, smiled. "We should be keeping you for about another two days, to check everything is alright and that there are no negative effects from the potion, and then, I think, you will be free to finish that essay for Professor Lupin." And with that and a quick, almost reassuring wink, Dumbledore exited the vicinity.  
  
"So." Snape began, while Hermione, wishing she was dead, was about to tear up, but was miraculously saved by two larrikins who had just come through the door. Snape blanched considerably.  
  
"Hermione!" a red-faced, red-haired, and freckled boy called before he realised the devil himself was there. Harry and Ron slowed to a stop, Ron's face twisted in a mixture of distaste for Snape, and pity for 'Mione, and Severus, clearly affected by the potion, simply walked straight out of the hospital wing (looking like he had seen You-Know-Who just break into Hogwarts) and back down to the dungeons for a cup of tea - or perhaps something a little stronger, if he trusted himself to make a hooch for himself to tipple.   


============¤===========

1 I'm a little sorry I had to re-employ him but I do have a reason - in fact several, some of which I shall reveal here: Firstly, although he isn't going to act sad and sorry in this fic, he's just recovering from Sirius dying (which, personally, I don't think happened), and I think Dumbledore would want to monitor him closely. Also, I need him for the Wolfsbane Potion. I hope those reasons are good enough for you - and yes, I'm a lazy bugger.


	2. Chapter Two: The Dungeons

Chapter Two: The Dungeons

Two days later, the faculty finally gave in and let Hermione out of the hospital wing, although they would keep a close eye out for any effects the potion may have had on her, especially on nights of lunar significance. Almost at once, it seemed, Hermione threw herself back into her studying, muttering about bad starts to the term and getting behind and, once she faced the problem of a blank parchment instead of a DADA essay, failing. 

Hermione took a trip to the library to investigate in the restricted section. It was hard going, but eventually she had a plan of what she would write in her essay, which was expected to be about 9 feet, as one of her major tasks of the year. She wasn't particularly craving the rants of Harry and Ron ('Third day of the year!', '9 feet! That's more than we've ever had to write!'), and so she remained in the library until she had written her first draft, and then returned to the common room to catch up with the boys and, of all things, the homework she had missed the day before. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus Snape was inundated with books about werewolves and wolfsbane and potion accidents when Dumbledore waded through his private rooms to talk to him about the sixth year - first year potions program they were to organise. To be frank, Dumbledore had never seen Severus' rooms so out of their usual frosty neatness, and it made him wonder why exactly Severus was so pedantic about finding out what that potion had done to Miss Granger - for Severus had received such a little dose and certainly none through the mouth that it could not have affected him. Snape, not wishing to co-operate, ignored Dumbledore for as long as he could, grunting and murmuring half-answers until Dumbledore conjured up a chair for himself and banished the books to a corner, where they promptly shrank and packed themselves neatly into four piles. Unfazed by this wandless magic but annoyed he would now be confronted by Albus Dumbledore, Snape got up to pace around the room.

"Have you decided when the sixth years will teach their first lesson, Severus?" Albus began lightly, twirling jubilantly around on his chair which had suddenly acquired the ability to swivel. 

"No."

"Have you talked to them at all?"

"No."

"Have you got lesson plans for them?"

"They can use the ones I use myself."

"Are you ever going to stop doing this," he motioned to the books in the corner, "before you have a perfect, resolute answer?"

"That's off-topic."

"I realised."

"Good."

"Severus, I need you to co-operate. It would be a shame if this didn't work out. When do you have your next lesson with the sixth years?"

"Tomorrow."

"And the first years?"

"The day after."

"Good. I expect the lessons to start then, in that case. You should talk to the sixth years beforehand so they may notify their teachers, and give them copies of your lesson plans." Snape gave no sign that he had heard, but Dumbledore knew he had. "Well then. I suspect you may be surprised at the outcome of this little... adventure, Severus." And at that, Albus swept from the room with purple brocade, pausing before the door to flick his hand and set the room to rights - or, at least, how it had been before he had entered, the door seeming to expand to allow room for his tall, pointy hat to pass through without the need to duck. Snape sat down and groaned, momentarily putting the book to one side to fish out his lesson plans and make two copies of his next two first year lessons.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Suprisingly, Hermione had no homework from the two days she had spent in the hospital wing. Although Harry and Ron seemed reassured by this fact, as Hermione insisted, "It's all the more worrying! I'll have to catch up in class now! No homework! We must have done so much in class!" And, indeed, apart from their one potions lesson where both Hermione and Professor Snape were 'indisposed', the faculty had appeared to simultaneously do impressions of Minerva McGonagall (except for, of course, Professor McGonagall, who simply worked harder than normal, if it were possible) and had worked their classes harder than ever before, even though no OWLs nor NEWTs were making their awful appearance at the end of the year for the sixth years, and had only taken pity on their students as they had worked them so hard so closely proceeding the start of the school year. Of course, they had mentioned, that wasn't going to be a regular occurence and soon the teachers would be working them hard both in the classroom and the common room. The fact that McGonagall, of all people, had not given them any homework, only caused Hermione to procrastinate further and, had it not been for drastic measures taken by Harry and Ron, Hermione would have re-read all her texts before dawn, instead of concentrated on her DADA essay.

For despite thorough planning, Hermione was not convinced she had done a good enough job on her draft. Encloaking herself within her secure curtain realm once more, Hermione stared out of the window and supped hot tea that had arrived from the kitchens with but two taps of the wand - a brainstorm of Fred and George's. She was reluctant to use their service but, after much convincing from Hagrid, she had decided that sending down compliments on the house elves' excellent cooking was the only thing that would make them any happier, and indeed such comments were only increasingly earned. Using her quill-pen once more, Hermione carefully mapped out her second plan, examining the question thoughtfully. Dark magic and its appeal to wizards - discuss why wizards are drawn to the 'dark side.' It was best to start off with a clarification of what the question was actually asking her to do. Dark Magic, she thought, seems pretty plain enough to me - I should be able to find out a good definition in the dictionary downstairs in the Common room, when I need it...I presume that the term 'wizards' means both witches and wizards? But the 'dark side'... now that is a weighty term, isn't it? 

Tapping her quill-pen on her chin, Hermione knew that no such term would be in any dictionary of Hogwarts, and sought to define it in her own words. Perhaps I could be brief... gloss over the finer points? No, Remus shall surely expect better of me, she grimaced, wrinkling her nose up and forcing herself to think. "The 'dark side' is a rather controversial term. It is also a rather relative one, often used when a witch or wizard comes to power in a violent way, most likely using one of the three 'Unforgivable' curses," she wrote, "and most often magic collectively termed as the 'Dark Arts'. This witch or wizard will often have a group of people who, more often that not, seek power and destroy lives, homes, families, etc. in highly destructive ways. In one way, the 'dark side' may simply be the minority group, doing what the majority of the population think is the wrong thing, and hence, form the evil or dark side." She wrote and copied definitions and transferred her ideas onto parchment until her introduction paragraph, coupled with the definitions, was about a foot long, as she had planned. 

Hermione continued to work away, brainstorming and planning while watching the sun fade, and just as the moon began to rise she realised she would miss dinner if she did not get to the Great Hall soon.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the Great Hall was much laughter, food, drink, and chatter, but there was no Severus Snape, and, of all people, one Remus J. Lupin realised this and decided to act upon it. He had not seen Severus at dinner since the feast, five days ago, and supposed that the new weight of brewing enough potions to supply the hospital wing must be getting to him. However, he also felt it was important to eat and he wanted to make sure the man was staying alive, which would give him the opportunity to tell Severus he thought he had found a list of possible effects the Wolfsbane Potion might have had on Hermione, and various symptoms they could look out for.

Remus quitely excused himself and slipped out of the hall quickly, pushing ever so slightly on the door where he almost ran into Hermione as he was going out.

"Hello, Professor." She exclaimed, privately telling herself to stop running teachers over.

"Hello, Hermione. I was just going down to check Severus is still alive," Hermione raised her eyebrows at this, her face contorted to try to hide her interest, "which gives me the perfect opportunity to discuss my findings on the Wolfsbane Incident." His smile was friendly and he wasn't teasing her, but Hermione felt a pink tinge come to her cheeks at the mention of it.

"You found something about that?" She inquired.

"Yes, indeed I did. A list of possible effects, in fact, and their symptoms. I don't suppose you'd like to come down to Severus' dungeon, and I'll talk about them there?" Hermione hesitated, not wanting to seem too anxious she hoped her stomach wouldn't rumble and give her away, though her eyes kept up the charade, darting from the doors of the Great Hall to Professor Lupin, before commenting, "Well, if it would save you the trouble of repeating it one more time, why not?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Severus Snape had not realised the time until the house elves had simply brought his dinner to him. There was a very small pocket of time he was actually able to eat anyway, and so, Snape figured, there was no point in going to the Great Hall. He ate quickly before returning to his new batch of Wolfsbane, which would need to be stirred constantly for another hour before being covered up until the third quarter of the moon appeared in its exact half-circle. Clearly, he was not expecting a house call at this time of night.

"Severus." Remus called, rapping on the solid oak door to Severus' dungeon, where he was in the midst of meticulously preparing five different potions.

"Come in, come in." Snape muttered about inconveniences but refused to leave his cauldron - afterall, magicking the rod to stir the potion wasn't a good idea where Wolfsbane Potion was concerned, and if it were Dumbledore at the door (the oak meant he could not at first identify the voice of whoever was behind it straight away), it would give him an excuse to busy himself with something.

"It's locked, Severus." Damn. Blast. Oh well. He wasn't leaving his potion. Luckily, he had identified the person as Remus. Snape wondered what he was doing here, as it obviously wasn't time for his potion yet.

"Then unlock it. And watch what you do with that wand, Lupin, 'cause I'm stirring your Wolfsbane in here." Remus sighed, not having the faintest idea about how to get inside. He supposed it would be rather easy but-

"Leave it to me, Professor... I... er... I mean, Harry told me how to get into Snape's rooms. I mean-well... nevermind. Just stand aside, the spell's rather... interesting." Hermione reached into the corner of the door, grabbing a tiny glass key, traced the doorjamb with her wand, and began murmuring an incantation which was inaudible to anyone but her. She raised an eyebrow at a new component of the tricky spell Snape guarded his doors with, which was rather personal in its nature, but she passed and once the orange glow surrounding her faded, she slipped the key into the lock and opened the door, allowing Remus to walk in first, hovering about shadows, just a little nervous about the spell.

Snape waited for Remus to announce his business. Hermione stared around in wonder - she had seen his private stores before, but she needed to act surprised for appearances' sake, which did not turn out to be hard, for Severus seemed to have acquired quite a few more herbs and ingredients to stock his shelves. Her eyes turned to the Potions Master, admiring his skill and precise measurement as he poured Essence of Niffler into a cauldron on the far right, while still stirring the cauldron at the far left of the five. Hermione hadn't actually used Essence of Niffler before, but she knew quite a few all-heal potions would include such a substance, sometimes simply for the novelty of it. 

"I had a look at a few of my books on Wolfsbane, Severus, and I think I may have found something useful." Hermione started for second, her eyes darting to see if either of her professors had noticed her staring, her cheeks gradually cooling down with the freezing air of the dungeon.

Grunt.

"I found a list of effects the potion may have had on Hermione... it's...quite a complex one, but I don't doubt you'll be able to read it. Each of the effects has some symptoms we should watch for, too."

Grunt.

"I would offer to check our subject for those symptoms at the present time, Severus, but I left my book in my office, and I seem to have dropped the list." Severus didn't seem to realise Hermione was here. Lupin was determined to shock him into realisation but, it seemed, that wasn't seeming to work.

"What book were you using?" Finally, a reply. Lupin gave a grin, taking out a slip of paper.

"Aconitum Male Gerere by Bilberus de Merisi." Hermione spotted what looked like four piles of books, slightly smaller than their usual size and, using her wand behind her back, she summoned the book Lupin had a copy of upstairs in his office, took off the shrinking charm, and handed over the book to Remus whose grin grew wider, as he began to ask Hermione whether or not she had experienced various listed symptoms, aware that Snape thought he was talking to himself.

"Now do tell me, Hermione, have you experienced any headaches since the incident, other than the one induced by being trampled by a great big slimeball otherwise known as Severus Sextus Snape?" It was like Sirius was the one doing the questioning - and although Hermione found it hilarious, she managed to keep a straight face, and pretended that Remus was imitating her responses, as, obviously, Snape wasn't going to take a hint.

"Other than Harry and Ron, no, Sir."

"Very good, Hermione." Severus hadn't even blinked at the use of his full name.

"My dear Hermione," Remus began, laying on the grandeur, "have you at all fainted, since that terrible incident involving slime, black and wolfsbane?"

"Not that I'm aware of, Sir."

"And do tell me, Hermione, have you at all been distracted from your schoolwork since that Dark and Stor- oh. You've been in the hospitable wing. Of course. Well then. Do tell me how your love life's going."

"My...what, sir?"

"Your love life. Says so right here."

"What love life, sir? I'm supposed to be in love with someone now? Is Sevvy not enough?"

"If you say so. Now, please, tell me, has your period stopped since you and Severus crashed?"

"I... Professor that's a little-"

"-suggestive," Snape finished for her, "So, Lupin, if you don't want your Wolfsbane ruined again you had better get out quickly. Thankyou for your - help."

"Bye, then, Severus." Remus made towards the door. "Bye, Hermione."

"Good night, Sir." Hermione answered in her imitation voice. Remus gave her a wink and motioned for her to stay here. Hermione's mouthed dropped open in protest, but Lupin simply whispered into her ear: Trust Me. If something goes wrong, I'll make the excuses. If something goes really wrong, you know where the door is. No one knew what was going through Lupin's head, but he left too quickly for her to follow.

This is definitely not a good idea, Hermione's brain told her, but her heart begged to differ, but it was Remus'... it can't hurt if I just look, he hasn't noticed me yet.

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	3. Chapter Three: Let the Lessons Begin

Chapter Three: Let the Lessons Begin!

"Bloody werewolf," Snape breathed fiercely under his breath, "as if the Granger Know-it-all was ever in here." Snape was busily measuring out diluted Bundimun secretion, a substance used often in cleaning fluids. "Waste of time. Waste of energy. Waste." Snape poured the secretion into the middle cauldron, while continuing to stir the cauldron on the far left; the Wolfsbane. The potion in the middle cauldron turned from green to orange, and then once Snape adjusted the heat, boiled down to a clear blue. As he turned down the heat and replaced the lid, Hermione knew that the fluid would most likely have to simmer for a further forty minutes, before being bottled. More than that, and the Bundimun secretion would start to erode the cauldron; too much less, and it would explode in the bottle, taking about half the dungeon with it. All the while stirring the Wolfsbane with his right hand, Snape grabbed a mortar and pestel and began to crush snake fangs. He then weighed an appropriate amount of nettles and, Hermione knew not how, he somehow managed to add both simultaneously to the cauldron next to the all heal. Placing some horned slugs in a much smaller cauldron behind him, Snape divided his attention between stewing the slugs and monitoring the five potions. Once they were ready he added them to the mystery potion between the all-heal and the cleaner.

'And why,' Hermione thought, 'is he making a first year boil cure?' Clearly, there were more effective potions the Potions Master could manage easily, many of which his fifth, sixth and seventh year potion students could make in class. As he reached to add porcupine quills to the boil cure, Hermione restrained a gasp, but, luckily, he remembered in the nick of time to take the cauldron off the heat, just saving himself from making the same mistake Neville had in their first ever potions lesson. Hermione supposed he hadn't been going to make such a fatal mistake - which would've turned to the other four cauldrons into blobs and reacted with their potions, likely resulting in an explosion or harmful injury - but as Snape shook his head to clear it, her mouth fell in shock, because she realised that he almost had made a stupid mistake. Maybe he was the one that was affected by that Wolfsbane Potion, she thought. I've never even heard of him making a mistake before, even recently when he began making four or five difficult potions at once, even while teaching at the same time.

"Bloody hell," Snape muttered, "not again." He turned around to the cauldron between the cleaner and the Wolfsbane, brow furrowed and features contorted almost in fury, but instead showing his lack of sleep. "Orange. Of all colours. A third year potion, to boot. Longbottom would be proud." No, thought Hermione, he can't just have made the same mistake as Neville with the Shrinking Solution. Her memory searched rapidly, finally reminding herself how she had fixed that dilemna. The potion required daisy roots, a shrivelfig, some caterpillars, and was supposed to turn a bright acid green. Snape had just made the same mistake Hermione had remedied in third year - losing five points for her expertise - and had put more than one rat spleen in, and too much leech juice. Hermione was beside herself - a mixture of disbelief, willingness to help, and sheer confusion running through her brain. Two mistakes in a row? Who is he and where's Snape?

Although Snape could have just doubled the amounts of the other ingredients like Hermione had instructed Neville, Hermione knew the potion would lose its potency. The only way to remedy it for human consumption would be to stir the potion quickly and continuously, now and then adding small amounts of Moke Skin as you doubled the amounts of the other ingredients. With only one hand available, even with a wand, this task seemed almost impossible to Hermione. It seemed Snape was just going to leave it until he could cover the Wolfsbane again. Unfortunately, as Hermione quickly did the math, the ratio in which the ingredients were mixed, and the leech juice which did not have enough shrivelfig mixed with it to counteract the acidity of the potion, would either destroy the potion for good (likely taking the other four with it), or give off a fume which would likely kill Snape.

I've got to do something. Pulling her wand from the inside of her robes, she carefully put a concealment charm on herself so he wouldn't discover her while she was trying to help. Then, ever so slowly, she manipulated the jar of Moke skin from the shelf with a quick "Locomotor Moke skin jar" and bid it rest next to the cauldron of Shrinking Solution, making sure that both she and Snape could see it, and then unscrewed the stopper even more slowly. She carefully, unobtrusively prepared the other ingredients in the correct amounts before softly breaking a section of Moke skin into very small pieces. So far, Snape hadn't noticed anything. Thanking God and Merlin and anyone else listening, she observed a stirring rod still sitting in the cauldron, which she magicked to start very slowly but gradually build up speed until it was fast enough to add the ingredients - making sure none of her spells affected the Wolfsbane, which she knew was quite sensitive. Snape still didn't notice the stirring rod whizzing about right under his nose as he was busy writing down what looked like times and quantities, and making bottles sterilise themselves in the sink. Carefully levitating the ingredients at the right times, Hermione fixed the potion bit by bit, and then let it simmer for the appropriate ten minutes, wondering how she would get it into bottles and label them without Snape noticing. Using her ten minutes to levitate bottles and labels underneath the bench and just in front of the cauldron on her side, she then crossed her fingers and hoped that her spell would work - naturally, it did, and the cauldron suddenly had a tap on her side of it. Using her wand to operate the tap from a distance and maneuvre the bottles, Hermione managed to fill the bottles, emptying the cauldron of its contents, and conjured up a quill, labelling them. Suppressing a sigh of satisfaction and relief, Hermione levitated the bottles up onto the bench, where she hoped Snape would find them in due course. Hah, she thought, who's insufferable now? 

Most ironically the concealment charm chose this moment to fail Hermione. More ironically, though, Snape chose this moment to look up. Oh. No. I am so in for it now. 

"Miss Granger?" His tone was almost pitiful; he was much too tired to even think about sounding at all threatening.

"Yes, Professor?" She replied weakly.

"You...you... Lupin?" He vaguely gestured towards the door. Hermione understood completely.

"Yes, Sir. I came in with Professor Lupin. He told me to stay here, although I am not sure why. I can leave if you want..."

"You... you saw me... you watched me brewing potions?"

"Yes, Sir."

Damn, he thought, so much for not making a noticeable mistake in front of someone. He glanced down at his work, his hands only just remembering to stir the Wolfsbane, as if searching for an explanation which wasn't there. Instead, he did not believe what he saw.

"What's this? Who- When- ...how?"

"I noticed that the potion hadn't gone quite as one would have planned, sir. I recognised it as a Shrinking Solution. I knew that if it wasn't remedied quickly, there may have been awful consequences, but you couldn't attend to it because you were brewing four other potions, including the Wolfsbane. I... fixed it up. You should find it adequate for human consumption, Sir."

"I... ah... thankyou, Miss Granger."

"You're welcome, sir," Hermione was satisfied at being the first Gryffindor ever to receive praise from Snape. "Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Ah... surely supplying the hospital wing is a tedious task, sir."

"Tedious but necessary."

"Yes, well... I was wondering, if it's not too presumptuous of me, would you like some help with... anything? I... I'm not really busy and I... I wouldn't mind."

"It is too presumptuous of you, Miss Granger."

"Sorry, sir. I'll... I'll be leaving, then." 

"I don't think so," Snape said thoughtfully, "Out of bounds, Miss Granger? Why aren't you at dinner?"

"I would have thought that was obvious, Sir. Professor Lupin invited me to come down and hear what he thought of the Wolfsbane incident, to save him from repeating it again," Hermione was furious. How dare he criticise her for breaking the rules, when she had helped him, and when she hadn't broken them in the first place? "And by now, dinner will be finished."

"Still... you are a prefect. I'm afraid I'll have to give you detention. I expect you outside that door straight after your last lesson tomorrow, Miss Granger. Good night." A small yet malevolent sneer played on Snape's lips, pleased to have delivered justice to the first person to see him mess up a potion. 

"Good Night, sir." Hermione spat, racing out of the dungeons and back to the Fat Lady before she realised how hungry she was, and back-tracked to the kitchens to grab a bite to eat before going up to bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione wasn't sure whether or not she was unlucky she didn't have DADA. Remus had said he would take the blame for anything that happened - whether or not that included her detention, Hermione didn't know - but she wasn't particularly eager to share what had happened down in the dungeon. However, she wouldn't see him before lunch and by then it would probably be too late - she realised, anyway, that even if Remus talked Snape out of the one she had received last night, she would do something that would earn it back in potions that afternoon. After fifth year and the dreaded OWL examinations, classes had become specialised and, naturally, Hermione was taking the most classes in the grade - all but Muggle Studies and Divination. She wasn't in many of Harry and Ron's classes and the trio seemed to have grown apart ever so slightly since last year. Somehow they had managed to scrape into her Care of Magical Creatures and DADA classes. She suspected this was because the former had such a little number of people doing it and, well, they had to be good at one subject, and the DADA classes were larger - thanks to an enormous show of interest with the rise of Voldemort - however, she did not push the matter - they were friends, even if it was more than often the case that she was the only one with any intelligence.

Professor McGonagall took her aside that morning to summarise what they had done in the lesson Hermione had missed. Hermione had mastered the principles of self-transfiguration over the summer holidays (if not beforehand), and to the slight surprise of both student and teacher, she managed to transfigure her left arm into that of an octopus almost immeadiately. A little dazed, McGonagall let her return to the rest of her classmates, who were still having trouble with transfiguring their limbs into wings - wings being the simplest they could transfigure them into, because they were almost all feather, and one simply had to remember where the bones went and what direction the feathers were in. While McGonagall roamed the classroom, changing back heads and legs and necks and even sending one poor girl off to the hospital wing, Hermione studied a diagram of a shark fin and several diagrams of mammal limbs - mastering all but that of a horse because there just wasn't enough time. By the end of class Hermione was so far ahead McGonagall simply told her to "do whatever she wanted" for homework - but, she said jovially, brushing up on the counter-spells would be useful if the rest of her class were still of the same standard next lesson.

In Advanced Charms the class was of a slightly closer standard. Most of the class managed to master many of the simple charms wandless magic had to offer by the end of the lesson - of course, Hermione, who had already practised this in the Hospital Wing, had moved on to re-reading and summarising the lengthy chapter in their textbook about Wandless Magic. Flitwick found no need to bring her up to date, as they had mainly talked about Charms and what they would be learning this year, answering many of the students' questions about NEWTs. As Hermione had already interrogated Professor McGonagall about NEWTs two or three years ago, she wasn't worried that she had missed anything. Unfortunately, Flitwick set them quite a lengthy essay on various types of wandless magic and their advantages and disadvantages. Hermione was pleased, though, that most of this was in the textbook and she wouldn't be spending hours searching for information which didn't exist. 

Morning break left her just enough time to get from Charms to the dormitories and swap around her books, and get back down to Greenhouse Five just as the bell rang. Herbology was, to be frank, a bore (this was quite normal). The only other Gryffindor there was Neville, and really Herbology was considered such a useless subject except by those who were counting on it to pull them through to a Medi- witch or wizard degree (potions had become rather nasty, lately), that they and a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs made up the entire class. Fortunately, Neville was good at Herbology and Hermione didn't mind being his partner every lesson. Hermione hadn't missed much last lesson - what had happened in Charms pretty much summarised the Herbology lesson, too (except, of course, it was about Herbology, not Charms). They had begun studying special plants from different places around the world and by next lesson had to have their 3-week projects organised. This was easily accomplished in the lesson (naturally, Hermione paired up with Neville), and as Neville was quite passionate about the subject, he had already figured out almost everything, and Hermione, for once, didn't have to do a thing.

Lunch left much to be desired - oh, the food was magnificent (the house elves were getting better and better everyday, with all the compliments they received from Gryffindor table) - but Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus were nowhere in sight, and Hermione ate two ham sandwiches and gulped some pumpkin juice before disappearing into the Gryffindor dorms. Swapping her books around for her potions kit and textbooks, Hermione skipped up the boys staircase to see what they were up to. There wasn't a boy in sight. Figuring there wasn't enough time to find them before class, Hermione grabbed her Potions stuff and raced to the dungeons, arriving 5 minutes early. Examining the Senior Timetable on the noticeboard in the main dungeon, she saw that they were in one of the smaller dungeons, one of the ones next to Snape's private rooms and stores.

Surprisingly, the dungeon was unlocked. She was unsure as to whether she should go inside - this was, afterall, her first Senior Potions lesson, and she wasn't sure whether the rules would be different from now on. She was sure, however, that if Snape came and she was the only one sitting inside, it wouldn't be pleasant. Several Ravenclaws arrived on the scene: from what Hermione could tell, they appeared to be Anthony Goldstein and Morag MacDougal. At the last moment before the bell, Malfoy arrived with Snape, apparently disgruntled that none of his Slytherin friends were talented enough to join him, but smirking because he knew he'd be the favourite in the small class. They passed without a word, moving into the dungeon to take their places.

"So." Snape began, staring at each student as though meticulously weeding a garden. "You four managed to get into the top class. You may be under the impression that this means you're fantastic. On the contrary, most," and at this he almost smiled at Draco, "of you only just scraped in. I only teach two Senior classes for each year. One is for a small group of dunderheads who need the marks, the other is for a select few. You happen to be the select few. This," he snapped his head in Hermione's direction sharply and glared at her, "does not mean you get special privileges. This," he spat, "does not mean class will be any different from now on. This means I expect perfect results from you every single time you do something." Hermione could tell he was almost enjoying this. She knew she was not.

"This course is continuous for two years. I expect your other teachers have bothered telling you about NEWT Examinations. I will not. If you have any questions, see your Head of House about it. Some of the topics and potions we will cover are," here he tapped the board, "on the blackboard. Every potion you do here at Hogwarts will be taken into account. Every potion had better be perfect. I will not accept lazy, heavy handed fools in my classroom. If you mess up you will make the potion again until you get it right. If you mess up three times you will explain yourself. If I do not find that explanation satisfactory, I will kick you out of this class." He paused for this statement to make its impact on its victims. Unfortunately, there was only a hint of fear in the Ravenclaw boy. Annoyed but unruffled Snape continued:

"Your first task this year will be a project which starts tomorrow," Hermione restrained her arm, perhaps she was wrong, but she thought they didn't have potions again until Monday, "where you will be teaching first years. You will, in pairs, each take one class at least once a week. You will stick to the curriculum," he handed out their lesson plans, "or face the consequences. Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger will take the Gryffindor/Slytherin class, Miss MacDougal and Mr Goldstein will take the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff class. I expect you to notify your teachers about why you cannot attend their lesson by tomorrow or be solely responsible. At the end of a four week period every first year will have a small examination. If one of your students fails, you also will fail. If you forget to come to class, you, also, will fail. I will supervise your first lesson. You should be familiar with the curriculum. If all goes well, as I doubt it will, I may end up leaving you to carry on with your teaching by yourselves. You are all prefects and as such I expect you will not have a problem with discipline. Be warned that if you do not complete this project to a satisfactory level your prefectship may also be in jeopardy."

"This lesson you will read Chapter One in your textbook which should be on Healing Potions. You will then make the potions on pages 5, 7, 9 and 11. You will bottle and label these and then you will summarise the chapter. I expect 16 inches on the properties of the ingredients you used in these potions, why and how they are effective, etc. You will then devise your own Healing Potion using at least six of these ingredients, make it, bottle it, and label it. Make sure you include a recipe on the label. Everything not done this lesson will be homework, due Monday. You may use the ingredients and equipment in these store cupboards," he opened 3 or 4 cupboard doors with his wand, "but no ingredients from the others. Everything you use must be washed up and put away. You may begin."

Hermione had already read this Chapter, several times in fact, but to avoid suspicion she read it once more, albeit a little faster than normal. Once she had finished she turned to pages 5, 7, 9 and 11 to read the recipes. She decided that she could make two at once. The Burn-Relief Potion and the Cough-Relief Potion looked pretty easy, and she was positive they could be made in conjunction with each other. Preparing two cauldrons and her ingredients, Hermione began working away. Soon enough, however, the major disadvantage of being one of the 'select few' became apparent - with only four students, Snape had to spend some time looking at what you were doing. Thankfully, however, he busied himself by making potions on a bench up the back of the classroom with his back turned, and before she knew it she had the Cough-relief finished and began on the Headache Cure. Once the Burn-relief was bottled and labeled, Hermione brewed an Advanced Boil Cure, hardly keeping herself from smiling at the thought of Snape almost making a mistake with a first year boil cure. With half an hour to spare, Hermione cleaned up and began working on the tedious tasks of summarising a 25-page chapter and writing 18 inches of herbal properties. She managed to summarise the chapter and had written 12 inches of the essay when class finished. She immeadiately packed up her things and began to move to the next dungeon for her detention.


End file.
